BeastMistress
by dragonseeker55
Summary: Serenity is the sole survivor of a tribe long dead and long forgotten with a special gift: she can talk to animals, and maybe change into them! Endymion, Duke of Elysia, catches her eye at a village square. Rated M for later chapters.
1. The Beginning of The End

A small village nestled in the valley of Kosovana, meaning "Plain of Life", hummed as its inhabitants encouraged a man who was ruthlessly abusing a white tigress and her two cubs. The mother was badly hurt—an injured paw and her broken back leg, not to mention multiple lacerations on her once-pristine coat and some broken teeth—but was still trying to protect her cubs, which were crying pitifully as they tried to dodge the clubs swung at them. One cub got hit in the neck and went down, never to get up again.

The mother knew this and snarled, exposing her one whole canine and her broken one and her several other missing teeth. The man, broad as a tree and as strong as a boulder, grinned mercilessly and swung his massive club down, eliciting a pained whine from the animal. Its remaining cub limped over from its dead sister and tried to curl up to its badly wounded mother, mewing miserably. The mother swung her head and licked its cub tenderly as the torturer drew closer.

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Colorless eyes watched this cruel torment from the trees bordering the village. They watched as the man had unintentionally killed the female cub and had badly ill-treated the mother. Fury grew in those colorless eyes, turning them fiery red-gold. They blinked and drew closer to the village, waiting for the right moment.

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The man, known as Brian and headman of the village, grinned cruelly at the predator. It had killed his wife and son, and now he was exacting revenge upon the vile creature. He had dropped his club for the broadsword in his hand now. It shined brilliant silver in the bright sunlight, and he lifted it over his head to strike down the murderer of his family.

And dropped it as a hand grabbed his neck, the slender fingers pressing on his jugular veins.

"I just cut off the flow of blood to your brain, making it impossible for you to breathe or move without using your already diminishing store of blood. You'll die in approximately thirty seconds," a feminine voice stated slowly from the forest behind him, the voice deep and dangerous. The hand let go, leaving him standing there, his face paling by the second. The villagers gasped as their leader's attacker stepped from the trees.

Silver-gold hair fell to ankles wrapped within worn trappers' boots in a no-nonsense braid that flicked like a whip with every movement of her head. Cold crystal eyes the color of flame swung to every startled face in the village; making her high cheekbones, delicate nose, full mouth and sensual pink lips be made in ice. Soft deerskin hugged her torso, revealing a barely visible six-pack on her stomach, toned willowy arms, and fit endless legs, all skinned in the palest pastel known to man. A short mid-thigh skirt with a slit up to her hips held snug on her small waist, a belt with a pouch of some herb hanging off her left leg. On her back was a weapon made of elephant bone cored in diamond; a staff with one end as a club, the other as a fatally sharp dagger. The exquisitely beautiful woman pulled it out, and with a quick twist over the engraved center separated the two, making them like separate weapons altogether.

She looked at the leader, seeing his face was bone-white. After putting back the club in the holder on her back, she snapped a hand over his neck, returning the flow of blood, and he fell to the ground with a hand holding his neck as he heaved heavy breaths, choking. She lifted his chin with her blade, careful not to put a mark on him. "I'm still waiting for the pleading mercy," she said, raising his chin higher. His blue eyes narrowed, and he snarled, imitating the tigress. She pulled her blade away, making his heavy head drop. She walked over to the injured tigress and cub, picking up the dead one on her way there. The mother cowered over her baby, snarling feebly and baring damaged teeth.

"Now, now," the girl cooed, making the villagers' eyes widen as she knelt in front of the predator. "You wouldn't want to hurt me, now would you? I saved you."

Then she did something that would frighten the children for the rest of their lives. Her eyes, vibrant as flame and raging as fire, suddenly paled, turning completely white like a blind man. Those sightless eyes stayed fixed on the tigress, who had locked her dull amber eyes with the young woman. The cub stayed still and close to its mother, mewing loudly. As if its crying had turned on a switch, the woman's eyes darkened to crystal blue.

"I'll take them," she announced to the village. "Only if you promise never to do this again."

The eldest woman of the village, the shamaness, stepped forward. "We promise, swear on the Goddess," the woman spoke, nodding her head in affirmation. The young woman pulled the tigress on her shoulders in an act of protectiveness and strength, although the female tiger weighed no more than twenty pounds at least. The living cub she set in the tigress' mouth, the dead one she held in one hand. The young woman nodded, then swiveled to toe her weapon on her foot, then flip in up and catch it in her teeth. She turned toward the forest and started out.

"Wait!" It was the shamaness. "What is your name, young woman?" She turned to see five men help their leader to his feet. All the village was watching her. She sighed.

"My name is Serenity of the tribe of the Beastmasters," the fourteen-year-old announced around the weapon in her mouth, and disappeared in the woods.

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Four years passed like the blink of an eye to Serenity of the Beastmasters. In truth, she was the last of her tribe where the people had been blessed by the Goddess of animals to speak to them, and to listen to them. Some of her tribe had been able to transform parts of their bodies, or their whole body entirely, into animals. Serenity had been training under her village's shaman to change her body, because it was said that Serenity had been the strongest of the tribe, being able to look back in time and speak to the animals of old and being one of the most intelligent about the land's history.

Serenity sighed. Her village had been murdered when she had been thirteen, a crucial age for her. That was the year of her coming-of-age festival, held for every girl in the village who had reached thirteen summers. Serenity was hoping for a horse from her father for a gift, already outgrown her small pony from when she was four. That was also the night they had attacked, leaving no survivors.

A rustle in the bushes disturbed her thoughts, and Serenity stood slowly as two magnificent white tigers emerged, a hank of meat in the male's mouth and a store of berries and herbs in the female's. Serenity had nothing to fear from these predators; they were the children of the white tigress she had saved four years ago. It had been the female that had died by the foolish man's club that day, but after Serenity had fed the mother and son food she had salvaged from the village that night, Serenity had called upon the power of the Goddess to resurrect the small cub.

Serenity was often called the incarnate Goddess by monks or shamans just by her appearance and her strength of power. But Serenity had a reason to her remarkable resemblance to the Goddess worshipped in mass amounts over the land. She knelt next to the tigress and accepted the offering of herbs as the tiger placed the meat by her bent knee. Serenity quietly thanked them and rose, moving over to her pack to pull out a metal pan to put over the average-sized fire she had going. The tiger and his sister purred as they settled by the warmth.

Serenity let loose an ear-splitting whistle that rustled the leaves on the dying trees. Winter was fast approaching and Serenity had no protection for the cold season, except the coats of her faithful cats that had stuck to her side since their mother died a few months after Serenity had saved them. Serenity was still mourning over their mother's death; she had been a loyal friend.

Hooves echoed through the clearing, and a large stallion entered the clearing. His coat was blacker than ebony, blacker than the night sky at the zenith of the new moon. His eyes shone blue in the scant light of the waning moon, his coat slick with sweat. He was tall, his withers reaching over Serenity's five-foot-five frame. At the crest of his neck, he was six-foot-six, his withers six-three; Serenity thought her stallion was the tallest horse in the valley. His long slender legs trembled with the run that had cost him to gallop to his mistress. He ambled over to her and thrust his muzzle into her hair, lipping it and blowing warm horsey-breath all over Serenity's neck. Serenity laughed at the brightness in his eyes as she stood.

"Did you find any mares, Delaine?" she asked him playfully, sniffing him carefully. Yep, he definitely had the scent of lilac around him. To Serenity, all animals had their own distinct scent about them. In horses, mares usually smelled of lilac and stallions were regularly scented of sweat and sometimes blood. In tigers, males smelled musky and heady. Female tigers scented of newborn cubs and soft fur.

Delaine bobbed his head in a horse nod and shuffled over to the two large cats. The male, named Zephyr, touched noses with the stallion while the tigress, Andra, flicked her tail irritably. Delaine trotted behind Serenity and laid down, close enough to the fire to feel its heat and far enough so that his mistress could lean against him. Serenity leaned against her stallion and pulled the threadbare saddle blanket from her pack and wrapped it around herself. She sighed and looked at each animal in return.

"What will we do this year?" she asked them quietly. All three animals looked at her, ears pricked and eyes curious. "We've survived this far; what will we do now?" A solitary tear streaked down her downy cheek. Delaine pressed his velvety nose against her cheek while Zephyr mewled like a cub. Andra purred as she stretched a paw to rest on her thigh. Serenity smiled; they were like a second family to her, ever since the two large cats had lost their mother and she had rescued Delaine from crocodiles in the south when he had wandered from the herd of wild horses milling around the river there. They were her guardians, her protectors, her family. Knowing this, Serenity curled under the blanket and settled against Delaine's warm side. He curled his neck and head around her upper body while Andra draped her body across Serenity's midsection. Zephyr laid his muscled bulk on her legs and feet just as the chilly air brushed Serenity's face.

She went to sleep with a smile on her face and warmth all over.

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The next day they rode into the village where Serenity had rescued the tigers' mother. The headman did not recognize her; he was happily remarried and had twin sons, but Serenity warned Andra and Zephyr to stay outside the village until nightfall, where Serenity would sleep on the outskirts of the village, anyway.

The lord of the valley was visiting the village that day, for the harvest was in and the herds were the best to be found in a hundred fifty-mile radius; it was also unusually warm today, being as it was so close to winter. He looked out upon the village with intense eyes that shifted blue, then green in the sunlight. All the maidens swooned when he rode past; he was only two-and-twenty years old and handsome as sin. His ill-tempered silver grullo charger snorted at all who crossed his path as he swept into the village. The headman came up to him with arms spread.

"Milord Endymion, welcome!" he bowed deeply as his lord dismounted his unusually large horse. The horse in question snorted irritably and flicked his tail. He looked at the headman, his eyes flashing green in the sunlight.

"Thank you, Headman Brian," he said. He handed the reins of his stallion to the groom who had ridden with him. His black hair gleamed blue in the bright sunlight, his sun-bronzed skin ever so slightly darkening. He was glad that he wore lighter clothes for today; he was wearing light buckskin breeches tucked into knee-high black boots and a white cotton shirt under a light yellow waistcoat and a sky blue coat more suited to Court designed for riding. A pristine white cravat was tied elegantly at his throat and a silver hoop earring hung from his left ear. "How was this year's harvest?"

Brian swung his arm out to show to his lord the men and women carrying large bushels of corn and wheat; children and their older siblings ran underfoot carrying baskets of berries. "It was plentiful this year, Milord Endymion. You and your family will have enough to eat this winter, as will we all."

Before Endymion could protest that he had no family, loud shouts and cursing could be heard from the square. Brian frowned and sprinted to the village square; Endymion mounted his charger and trotted eloquently into the square. What he saw there was amazing and slightly interesting.

A young woman stood among the bleeding and unconscious men on the square's grounds, her straight and narrow back to him. No cuts or bruises marred her unblemished milk-cream skin and no blood stained her weapons. She wore a leather slip with a strip-cut skirt that went to her mid upper thigh outlined with light Celtic-looking armor to protect her chest, shoulders, and abdomen while leaving her arms and legs free. Those gloriously long arms and legs were outlined in muscle and barely kissed by the sun's rays. On her back was a weapon made of elephant bone cored in diamond; a staff with one end as a club, the other as a fatally sharp dagger. In its center, when she turned to face him, was a Celtic knot design that looked very old and intricate. On her feet were old trapper's boots that looked comfortable. Endymion looked up from her battlefield to her face.

It stunned him to see how strong it was. Cold crystal eyes the color of flame swung to his face before her; making her high cheekbones, delicate nose, full mouth and sensual pink lips be made in ice so rigid it could cut through rock. Silver-gold hair fell to her slender ankles in two no-nonsense braids that flicked like whips with every movement of her head. On her hip was a chakram carved with Celtic knots and Gaelic symbols and writing; on her other hip was a sword that was finely made from where he could see of it. Brian stepped forward, his face red from fury.

"Y-you! I thought we would never see you again, witch!"

Ignoring Brian's threats, she reached a slender hand behind her and took out her elephant bone weapon. Twisting it easily in her hands, it came into two weapons, and she slowly twirled them in her hands. Brian instantly shut his mouth.

"I am no witch, headman," her voice was low and sweet, but was menacing with her furious tone. "I am here to buy food, nothing else. Is that the answer you wanted to hear?"

"Are you sure you weren't stealing?" Endymion drawled out casually, putting his thumbs in his pockets and shifting his weight on one leg. Her fiery gaze swept to him, and her brow lifted a fraction of an inch as she took in his appearance. Her gaze turned from accusing to cool indifference.

"I am positive, your lordship," she replied coolly, her voice as smooth as a merchant's. "You can ask the woman who sells fruit and vegetables; I paid her silver for apples and other fruit and some vegetables. You can ask the butcher; I paid gold for meat. I get my way around; I don't resort to stealing."

Endymion raised an ebony brow; she had had some education in her youth. He guessed her to be almost twenty years of age, but nothing more than that; her appearance was too young-looking to be anything older. "You don't? Then why are all the men in the village unconscious and bloody?"

Endymion swore he saw pink flush into her pale cheeks and down her swanlike neck. "They remembered me from four years ago or thought I was stealing," she replied coolly again, shifting her weight to one long, rangy leg. She put her weapons together and slid it back onto her back. She then loosed an ear-splitting whistle that had Brian beside him and all others conscious covering their ears. The ground beneath him rumbled.

A flash of black went by his eye and his charger snorted and snapped his teeth. After one blink, Endymion saw a large black stallion standing next to the strange vixen in front of him. The stallion's eyes were blue-hot flame that burned Endymion as the stallion looked him over distastefully. The ebony horse snorted angrily and stood in a way that half shielded the woman from him. Endymion's charger pulled at his reins' end to get to his rival; Endymion jerked the reins and his hot-tempered Caspar went still, although he was trembling.

"Caspar is curious, Milord," the woman spoke. Endymion's brows furrowed together; what was she talking about? "He scents more than human and horse on me and wishes to find out. By the way, he is a magnificent animal." The woman came up to him and held out a hand, much to Endymion's alarm. Before he could hold Caspar's head, the grullo had stretched his nose to hover quivering nostrils over the young woman's hand. Endymion took a big breath; she smelled of hay and warm horse. Caspar, finishing his inspection of her scent, gently whickered and strained against his master's hold to check out the rest of this bewitching young woman. Endymion, stunned by the sound that Caspar made—he _never _whickered—and the fact that her hand was still intact, let the reins slip from numb fingers to watch his ill-tempered charger, his mount famous for his temper and the fact that he could tear fingers off enemies in battle, turn into an amiable colt eager for her attention. Even Brian could not believe it; the village people watched, dumbfounded.

The young woman was smiling, dazzling Endymion, and whispering sweet nothings in Caspar's ear. Caspar wriggled his lip when she found a particular spot where he liked to be rubbed or a ticklish spot. She turned to him, seeing his expression, and chuckled. Endymion started as she ran long slender fingers through his stallion's mane. Endymion suddenly had the image of her running those fingers through his hair while he kissed those lips of hers…He shook her head as she presented him with the reins. Her smile made him think that she knew exactly what he was thinking. He took the reins and watched as she slid deerskin gloves onto her hands and mounted her stallion. She had her mount walk elegantly over to him and she smiled down at him once more.

"My name is Serenity, Duke Endymion of Elysia," she said softly. Before he could open his mouth, she spurned her mount toward the woods at the gallop. Endymion watched her go, a grin slowly spreading on his face.

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So? You like? Please R&R!!! One more thing; the leather outfit Serenity wears and the chakram…I actually borrowed the ideas from Xena: Warrior Princess. If you've seen the TV series, then you imagine Serenity with Xena's clothes and weapons. In Beastmaster, Dar's weapon is actually the one I described. I'm sorry if I've confused you!


	2. Encounters

Serenity was grinning like a reckless fool by the time she circled back from the forest to where her tent was pitched by the shamaness's hut, which was a way away from the village central. She looped Delaine's reins around his neck a couple of times, left him under a nearby oak, and settled herself in the sparse grass. Looking at the stone circle before her with a critical eye at the dry wood, she looked around to make sure that no one was in the vicinity. Seeing as it was all clear, she held her palm out like she was blowing a kiss. When she blew, fire came from her mouth and ignited the wood into a cheerful fire. She was still grinning when she leaned against the tree.

Duke Endymion of Elysia was one handsome fellow. Serenity smiled wryly as she remembered his shocked expression at her seductive smile; the look of hunger and the burn of desire had been projected on his face as broad as daylight. She recalled his features: hair blacker than Delaine's coat, skin bronzed by the sun, very broad shoulders that had filled out his Court coat so elegantly, and those legs! Serenity sighed as the fire roared. He was worth keeping, and if Serenity were nobility, she would've taken the devilishly handsome duke and mark him as hers.

Breath hissed between clenched teeth as Serenity clutched at the nape of her neck. The smell of burning flesh came to her nostrils, and Serenity looked up with panicked eyes. She jerked her hand back; it was red, like burned skin, and her palm was _moving_. She checked her other hand; it looked the same. Serenity stood in horror, and her legs shook so hard that she felt faint.

"I thought that bastard was dead!" she cried out to the sky, bending over double, folding her hands into her stomach. Pain rippled from her hands up her arms and met at the now-visible mark on her collarbone under her nape. It was known as a Celtic Flame knot; the intricacy of the knot burned into her skin like the fire it stood for. It smoldered a sinister crimson-black against her pale skin and filled her with white-hot pain. "Son of a jackal!"

Delaine snorted angrily and stamped the ground, looking at her with burning eyes the color of starfire. Serenity looked up at him and promptly fell to her knees, hugging her stomach. Blood spilled from her palms onto her leathers, and she drew her hands up to see them. A mouth with two long fangs yawned in each small hand, a tongue licking away the blood. Serenity dared not to look at Delaine; she knew what would happen. This had happened before, when her tribe had been massacred. Serenity hastily crawled over to her pack, where she reached into an outside pocket. She pulled out a pair of white silk armguards with matching fingerless gloves and moonstone prayer beads inscribed with silver symbols. She swiftly slipped the silk armguards and gloves on, wrapping the beads a couple of times around her wrists and forearms. She shakily reached in the pack again, pulled out two heavily etched silver rings, and slipped them onto her middle fingers over the gloves. Lastly, she connected the rings to the prayer beads, murmuring a simple prayer:

"_Heaven smiles upon those of the Moon...so gentle, serene, and peaceful. The Daughter will become mother, then her daughter the same."_

The beads and rings shone bright silver, and the pain receded. The mark on her neck did not fade, but shrank until it rested under the hollow of her throat, a symbol of death and destruction. Serenity stood straighter, still shaking from her experience. She knew she would have to go out tonight, when everyone was asleep and the night was silent. She sunk in the grass and looked up into the night sky. The stars were shining brighter than usual tonight, with the moon glowing bright silver in the midnight blue sky. Serenity sighed and pulled the blanket from Delaine's back as he settled himself down with a snort.

She started humming a melody that her mother had hummed to her when she had been a baby. Rustling next to Delaine revealed Andra and Zephyr, who made their way by Delaine. Andra sniffed the air around Serenity and snarled softly; Zephyr sniffed also and growled menacingly. Serenity sat up and looked at her charges. They looked at her, two pairs of cat amber and a pair of ice fire-blue meeting a pair of crystal blue. Serenity narrowed her eyes.

"I won't take it," she responded, shoving off the ground. She rounded on her charges with glowing silver eyes. "I won't allow it; I shouldn't have to kill you that way. No! I won't do it!"

Zephyr got up with a purr, stretched, and padded over to Serenity. Pausing before her, he rose to his hind legs and placed his massive paws on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. Serenity shook her head, as if Zephyr was talking to her. Serenity shook her head again and ran into the forest with Delaine and the tigers watching her go. Delaine looked at his cat friends; they flicked their tails. Sighing, Delaine shook his head and lay out to go to sleep as the big cats watched on.

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In the morning, Andra, Zephyr, and Delaine woke to see Serenity roasting a large buck on her fire. Her eyes were dull and glazed as she watched the flames; her white silk armguards and gloves were not stained, as they had believed they would have been. They were concerned for her; they could smell her fear and worry, and also her anger. Serenity was never fearful of anything; she had endured too much in her life; she had no worries; she knew she would never marry, although she desperately wanted children; and the big cats could not figure out their mistress was so angry; Delaine knew, of course, and had shared the tale with them.

Serenity abruptly stood and brushed off her knees. She walked over to her packs, which were hanging from the tree, and took them down to settle them on her blanket. Sitting down once again, she took out her old leather-bound sketchbook and a reed pen and began to sketch.

Andra was the first to get up from her warm spot in the grass to see what her mistress was doing. Looking at the page, Andra was amazed to see the face of a woman there. Her eyes were large and expressive, but so heavily guarded, in a heart-shaped face that was cut like a diamond with ice-edged cheekbones, a sharp nose, and a stubborn chin that rivaled Serenity's. Serenity just had the general outline of the face and slender neck drawn before Andra heard someone walking in the grass. She rose with a loud snarl as her brother also rose with a menacing growl. Serenity looked up to see what her charges were so fired up about; her gaze met ocean blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"I see you don't need guard dogs," Duke Endymion of Elysia said with amusement in his deep, sensual voice. Serenity smiled at him, stood and closed her sketchbook. She set it down gently and came to lay a hand on Zephyr's bristling ruff.

"Now, now. Zephyr, Andra, meet Duke Endymion of Elysia. Milord, I'm touching Zephyr, and his sister is Andra. Can we all be civilized to each other now?"

Endymion bowed to the large cats. "The honor of meeting two of the land's grandest specimens of predators is all mine," he said gravely. The two cats blinked at him before Andra shook herself and really looked at him. Immediately she saw the similarity between him and the woman that her mistress had been drawing. She turned, took her mistress's book in her mouth gently, and gave it to him despite Serenity's orders to drop it. Endymion took it and flipped it open, frowning as he did so.

"I'm so sorry, milord," Serenity said angrily. "Andra knows that she isn't supposed to do things like that, but—"

"Have you met my sister?" he asked her seriously, looking up from the sketch. "You have sketched her, although I am certain you two have never met."

Serenity swallowed hard as the scent of cooked meat came to her nose. Turning sharply, she slipped and started falling. Closing her eyes, she braced herself to hit the hard ground. Instead, she fell into warm, strong arms that wrapped around her waist and held her up under her arms and chest. Looking up over her shoulder, she met Endymion's soft blue eyes and his cocky grin.

"Lucky I caught you, no?" he murmured warmly, leaning closer. Serenity felt his warm breath mingle with her own as their noses bumped. Her heart raced, her blood rushed, and all she could see were the oceans of his eyes. All she could smell was of clean man and spicy soap. All sound ceased to exist as the sound of their breathing grew more rapid and ragged. "Otherwise," he continued softly, "You would be on the ground, positively flustered before a high nobleman such as myself…"

"You talk too much, you know that?" she whispered to him before deftly twisting away from the intoxicating duke. She heard his quiet chuckle as she took the buck off the fire. Taking out a long dagger, she swiftly speared off hunks of meat. Looking up, she met his amused gaze; she motioned to the abandoned blanket spread neatly on the ground. "You can sit," she said as she went back to cutting the meat. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

He looked at her a moment, shook his head, and sat down elegantly. "No, I have not, but I cannot refuse venison from a lady," he replied. Serenity rolled her eyes, which made Endymion laugh, and continued cutting the buck. She looked up at her stallion, who was watching the man sitting on his blanket.

"Delaine, get His Grace the packs," she ordered her mount. "Milord, there's cheese and some vegetables in the pack on Delaine's right. If you could please get some out?"

Endymion lifted both ebony brows as the black stallion snorted, shuffled over to the packs, nosed them onto his long neck, and trotted over to where he sat. Endymion thanked the stallion, who only whisked his tail in reply, and proceeded to fish around for cheese and vegetables. He looked up at her from under his bangs; she was wearing the same clothing from yesterday, but now with a soft deerskin choker with silver Celtic symbols that went around the nape of her neck and draped a large silver coin with an engraved Celtic Eternity knot over her collarbone. She was also wearing white silk armguards with matching fingerless gloves and moonstone prayer beads inscribed with silver symbols connected to two heavily etched silver rings on her middle fingers over the gloves.

"Are you of Celtic ancestry?" he asked suddenly, leaning over to hand her the food. Serenity looked up at him, her eyes a clear crystal blue as she took the food. Endymion cleared his throat. "What I mean to ask is, did your clan come from the land of the Celtic?"

Serenity straightened as she sat; her eyes were cold aquamarines now. "My clan bordered near the Celtic lands, but we are not descended from them. We were merely influenced by them to a certain degree. Our clan marks were Celtic, yes, but we were not Celtic."

"Ah," Endymion nodded, noticing the past tense of her words, and accepted a hunk of venison and some cheese from Serenity. She watched him from under her bangs. He was not in Court dress today; he was in patched brown breeches, worn boots, and a loose button-down red shirt that was open at the collar. Serenity stared at the thick column of gold neck and collarbone that rose from red-clothed broad shoulders. Her heart raced and her mind wickedly suggested that she kiss and lick that long neck and collarbone until he was moaning from pleasure. She leaned closer, unaware that her noble guest was reading her hunger and desire correctly in her softening liquid crystal eyes. He smirked and unbuttoned some more buttons, much to her surprise. He smiled at her widened eyes. "Go ahead. Be my guest," he told her gently.

Serenity shook her head and stood, her food eaten and her belly full. "Thank you, Your Grace, but at the moment, I don't trust men enough for a free offer," she told him coldly as she brushed herself off. Her eyes had turned cold again, Endymion thought as he buttoned up his shirt. "Delaine, get me the packs. Zephyr, bank the fire. Andra, the blanket."

Endymion stood as the tigress came over. She took the blanket gently in her teeth and shook her head to clean it off. Endymion bent over and grabbed the packs, putting them over Delaine's shoulders when he came over. He watched, amazed, as the tigress's brother carried a large pitcher of river water over to the embers of the fire and poured its contents over the dead fire. "How do you get them to do that?" he asked her. Serenity looked over at him, her eyes caught between blue and green.

"They've traveled with me for four years. They know the drill," she told him simply as she strapped the packs on Delaine's back to special loops in the blanket on his back. Endymion watched as she turned from worn traveler to hard warrior; the transition was so flawless, so fluid that he didn't know where one ended and the other began. As she began to mount, an idea formed in his head.

He went to the stallion's side. "Where are you heading?" he asked her hopefully. Serenity looked down at him, her hands knotted in Delaine's ebony mane. Her eyes turned thoughtful and accusing.

"Nowhere in particular," she replied after long silent moments. "Why do you ask, Your Grace?"

He shrugged his wide shoulders. "Well, there is this annual ball that Her Majesty will be hosting in two months, and I don't have an escort to this year's ball. Would you consider going with me?"

Serenity thought it over. "Seeing as I was my clan's princess, as my father being headman, it would be a good prospect…" her voice trailed off as the thoughts ran through her head. "Who would be there?"

"Their Majesties, noblemen of all classes and their families, you know, only the highborn," he shrugged again. Serenity looked at him with cold calculation in her eyes. After long moments, she shrugged. "When do we leave?"

Endymion smiled wide and stepped back. "As soon as you're ready."

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Yay! Chapter 2's done! does victory dance Now I get to start Chapter 3! Also, I added new material to my profile. Please check it out!


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